A New Life in Lisbon

Tomás had been in Lisbon for three weeks when he finally said that he was exhausted. He worked long hours, and he climbed the steep streets of the old town every day. He was not used to the noisy trams, the hills or having dinner at ten o’clock.

His new colleagues were friendly, and slowly he was getting used to the rhythm of the office. At first, the long lunch breaks seemed strange. Now he looked forward to them. “You’ll get used to everything,” Beatriz told him. “Even the trams.”

On Friday evening, he sat by the window and wrote to his sister. “I will finish my first month here this week,” he typed. “Next week I’ll fly to Madrid, and I’ll sleep in my old room.” He smiled and deleted the last sentence. Madrid was no longer the only place he called home.

Then he wrote about his plans. “In June, I’ll know enough Portuguese to follow a conversation. Next year, I’ll give presentations in Portuguese, and I’ll have saved enough money for a flat with a balcony.”

He pressed send and closed the laptop. Outside, a tram rattled up the hill. For the first time in weeks, he was not looking for the way back. He was simply listening, and the city sounded almost familiar.